


Do Synthezoids Dream Of Electric Sheep?

by wwatd



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Nightmares, No Dialogue, Post-Canon, Robots, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwatd/pseuds/wwatd
Summary: A look into the thoughts of White Vision and where he might be after the finale.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Do Synthezoids Dream Of Electric Sheep?

He’s been practicing sleeping.

It’s a memory of his, though distant.All of it feels distant, as a matter of fact.The other Vision, or perhaps himself, or a different self, or his reflection—

The other facet, he settles on, so his mind won’t drive itself into oblivion. 

The other facet had unlocked all of his [their] memories, pulling them from behind the curtain and displaying them to him, to all of Oz.Except...are they  _his_?

Vision is not a body alone, that enough is true.He was him before he could conceptualize a body and, while it had completed him in a way, that couldn’t be assigned purely to his physical form, could it?

He remembers the phrase: if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.

He possesses Vision’s appearance, acts like Vision would, thinks like he would.Yet...

He is no duck.No species, no vagueness, he’s another _facet_ of  an entity that may not exist as a whole at  _all_.

Some deep part of him, running from past to present, wonders if he’ll be enough.If—if all these spare parts, puzzle pieces constantly being lost and found, are enough.Is he enough of himself to satisfy her?To love her like he would?What parts of him are undesirable?Can he lose those the next time around?

He’ll never be able to give her all of him.He wants to, wants to forfeit all he was, is, and will ever be to her and then wants her to take more of him.She shouldn’t _get_ these pieces of him, she shouldn’t have to settle to turning the kaleidoscopic lens of his existence for eternity to try and grasp all of him.

But he cannot.Vision is limited and ever-changing.

The subtlest of changes and you can never go back to what was there before.Not in the most clearest of photographs, not in the most impeccable of memories.

Vision wants to go back.

His memories are loving, peaceful, agonizing, terrorizing.The moment of Wanda, the moments of his deaths.The cooking and the battles, his friends and their enemies.

He’s been practicing sleeping and when he does, he remembers.

Wanda knows about dreams.She’s told him of the golden glow of a haloed cradle, the dark shadows beneath her bed and the beeping light that kept her awake.Nightmares, she called the last ones.Nightmares and memories, one in the same.

When Vision recalls death, he’s not sure it counts.His systems react with stress, wires shocking signals and dread through him much like how Wanda would toss and jerk before he would wake her.His body tells him he’s  _there_ and _it’s happening again_ _._

Vision’s body hasn’t felt that.The death on the horizon faces his back, it’s something that will blind him if he turns.Twice, he’s looked back, and to turn again would be a stupidity unmatched.His mind keeps him sane about it, but uses his body to enforce it all.

The memories scare him.Though his body is pristine, his mind is worn by the ages he’s been entrusted with.The force of his mind, of the sum of him, is something he’s useless to.As his circuits overheat and his delicate pistons stagger he’s faced with the futility of fighting.

And it reminds him, very clearly, that these memories are real.The distance he feels during the day is yanked through his skin, festering in his core like a parasite eating him inside out.He loathes the sickness and loathes its departure even more.It makes him feel alive, like the original [whoever that may be].

When his eyes open and he finds himself staring at sky, his systems calm.It’s a gentle hand, telling him none of it is here, and a slap, hissing that he is a mere vessel of the real thing.

Vision feels like a shell, more often than not.The remnants of a carcass stitched back to life, contains all the organs of others, and truly a recreation—not a replica. 

Perhaps, if he had a more dignified existence, he would be prepared to seek her out.

He misses her.The only vivid part of him he can recall isn’t a singular memory to be pinned down.The emotions she invokes, the way she excites his processors into a frenzy by thought alone, it’s...love, plainly.

Wanda loves Vision, too.

He fears her reaction to him. 

Though her initial shock may have been a start, his response had been to attempt to crush her skull.[This is a memory not shared by another facet.One of his own, one often remembers and regrets.Nightmares of this body’s are always more horrific.There is no distance between sleep and awareness.]

If he were to approach her now, she would not only be met with a poor imitation of her original but one that has shown her nothing but extended pain.

He will not go until he understands himself.He learns his own mannerisms in the day, engrossing himself in behavior like a first-nature.He’s fascinated on how he managed to learn from others so quickly.An AI imprinting like a duckling, how odd.

Even alone, isolated, the motions persist.The longer stance in his step, whenber he paces in hypothetical conversation, the use of his hands in speech, his habits of movement between objects and air.

His body fights him, at first.When he floats in a way that isn’t  _efficient_ when he soars with a ghost without  _lethality_ .His programming remains.The aggression no other facet had, even as mutual weapons.Vision did not have to unlearn these instincts.But he does.

When he exhausts himself of the day, his mind feels free to run some of his ‘happier’ memories.These are filed without him, a gift of organization from one Vision to another.Most consist of Wanda, others of some time alone, the occasional moment with people.

Though on occasion he settles for files he’s steeped for human activity.Long shots of open environment greet him.The earth without human touch and, sequentially, a world without him.It is not only the people he admires of this planet, but of the land itself.Were it no one but him and an enemy, there would be no difference in his desire to shield.

After he runs through all the footage, he looks up at his own uninterrupted sky and begins recording.The other facet saved so much of him and passed it on.Vision wishes to do the same.He wants to be him, yet knows he isn’t.Until then, he will have to settle for being himself.

When his recording stops he sleeps and lets his memories take him to anywhere they please.To the darkest corners of his existence, to the brightest light cast upon him.

When they eclipse, it feels real enough to touch.Like he could reach out to her, gentle and scared, and whisper, “ _I just feel you_ .”


End file.
